Small Blessings
by sorrybutimustcelibacy
Summary: This idea came from thranduilings., where Thranduil's wife is dead and Legolas was adopted. Reviews would be greatly appreciated!


His heart was dead, sitting heavily in his chest. There was no sunlight, no happiness, no joy. His attendants surrounded him, trying to convince him to eat, sleep, drink, but to no avail. Nothing could bring him out of his depression. He kept thinking of her. Her beautiful hair; her dazzling smile; her loving eyes. He ached to feel the touch of her hand once more upon his face. He yearned for the smell of her hair as it blew gently in the breeze. But he would never have any of that again. So he sat in the darkness and cried.

There was a small crowd milling about in the parlor outside of King Thranduil's living quarters despite the fact that evening was setting in. Many of them were whispering to each other about the sad misfortunes that had so recently befallen their kingdom. The queen, along with the child she had been carrying, had been killed, murdered by a stray Orc band.

The royal couple had been traveling to visit Lady Galadriel in Lorien when they had been set upon. Thranduil had escaped with minor injuries, but his wife had sustained a vicious wound to her abdomen. Even if she had survived, the child would have been lost. But she had not, and now their king had locked himself away, refusing everything and ignoring their pleas. Many feared for his life; that he might take it in his grief or that his broken heart would kill him. It was not unheard of, an elf dying shortly after their spouse. That was why they were all there. They wanted him to know that they still cared.

When those gathered heard the whisper of an opening door, silence fell across the room. They looked up to see their king standing before them, pale and fragile. Those closest to him moved forward to offer their assistance but he waved them away with a hand. He moved through them and they parted like a river around a rock. One of his most trusted advisors, an Elf by the name of Saeldor boldly took a step forward, blocking his path.

"Sire, where are you going, if I may ask?" He was one of the most worried, long chestnut hair pulled back hastily into a ponytail and purple smudges under his eyes. The king gazed up at him, uncomprehending. He tried again. "We are worried about you Thranduil. You lock yourself away for days and refuse food, and now you appear with no warning and say nothing. Where are you going?"

"I… I wish to take a ride…" A buzz ran through the room.

"Surly you do not plan on hunting down the Orcs, Sire." Saeldor voiced everyone's concern. Thranduil shook his head slowly.

"No. I do not plan on that. I just want to be alone." He gazed at the sea of people, and then moved to push past Saeldor. He wasn't stopped, though his advisor did follow him out to the stables where the elk were kept. As he mounted, the brunette touched his hand, drawing his attention.

"Are you certain you are all right Sire?" Thranduil nodded and offered a brief smile that quelled all of Saeldor's fears. "Be careful." Again the king nodded and urged his mount off into the darkening woods.

As he travelled further into the trees, he retreated further into thoughts of her. He did not notice at first the faint sound being carried on the soft breeze as the world around him grew darker. Then, with a start, he turned and peered through the trees, debating whether it was real or not. It came again, louder, and he turned the elk in the correct direction and moved slowly forward. After a few moments he could tell what it was; crying. Someone or something was crying in his woods. His heart went out to them and he urged the elk to move faster into the twilight.

He never expected to find the child. It was nestled tightly in a dark blanket, nearly blending with the roots of the tree it rested under. He slid gracefully to the ground and knelt before it. It gave another cry, and he reached out gently to lift it up. It was freezing, despite the blanket and he cradled it close to his chest, whispering reassuring words to it. It was a boy, with blonde hair and fair skin. He looked so similar to Thranduil that they could have been father and son. That was what made his decision.

Swiftly, he rose to his feet and remounted the elk, sending it speeding back to the palace. The child was asleep now that it was warm, and he looked down on it fondly. He could sense a bond forming between the two of them and he couldn't help but smile.

When he arrived back at the stables, Saeldor was waiting for him. The elf watched in surprise as his king gave his mount to someone else and hurried inside. He fell into step beside him.

"Sire, what is it?" It was then that he noticed something in Thranduil's arms. A small bundle that… moved. "Sire..?" Thranduil spared him a quick glance as they entered the infirmary.

"I found him in the woods. I could not leave him there by himself." Saeldor nodded, understanding, but worried about the survival of a child left in the woods.

The child would live. Relief flooded through the king as he heard the healer speak those words. He didn't think he would have been able to take it if the child had died. He went quietly to the cradle that held the small boy and gazed down on it. It was asleep again, curled on its side, and he brushed a finger across its forehead. He smiled again as it sleepily grasped his finger and opened its eyes to stare up at him.

"I think I'll call you Legolas. Would you mind terribly if I did?" His answer came in the form of a smile and a small coo. He laughed under his breath. "Legolas it is then."

Fin


End file.
